Cheese Balls
by LibertyBelleAnne
Summary: Wes and Travis once again find trouble at a convenience store. For Whumptober 2019 #23 Bleeding Out


**Disclaimer: I don't own any robbery and homicide detectives stuck in couples therapy.**

**A/N: For Whumptober 2019 #23 Bleeding Out**

**Cheese Balls**

"Hey Wes, stay with me."

The blond detective blearily looked up at his partner's concerned face, "Travis?"

He was lying in a pile of scattered cheddar cheese balls. The jumbo plastic bottle lay next to him was rattled with bullet holes. The little orange spheres were crushed under his body, no doubt staining his suit. He couldn't remember why he was lying in a pile of overly processed snack food on a completely unsanitary floor.

Wes tried to sit up, but fire exploded in his leg. He moaned in pain as Travis placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from any more movement. He noticed his partner's service weapon in his other hand. Forcing himself to focus he took in more of the scene. Next to where he was laying in the aisle was a young mother and her small son huddled close to Travis. He tried to speak but another groan was the only thing that escaped.

"Wes says hi," Travis smiled down at the little boy when he whimpered in fright.

"You don't know what I'm thinking," Wes croaked out.

"Sure I do baby. I can read you like a book," Travis' grin looked forced as he met his eyes with a nod to the little family. As he probed Wes' wound he had a worried look in on his face. Wes bit his lip to keep from crying out as Travis added another layer of ShamWow's to his still bleeding wound. His vision blacked out for a moment as he tried to fit the puzzle pieces of the last few minutes together. He remembered needing gas and Travis claiming he needed snacks to eat in Wes' car. After that, it was a blank until he woke up bleeding out on a dirty floor. The threat must be neutralized if Travis wasn't engaged with anyone. Also, the cavalry must be on their way if Travis was just adding another layer to Wes' bleeding wound. So the only thing to do was remain calm and wait for help to arrive.

"I know you like your car ride snacks Wes but you don't have to wear them," Travis' eyes darted again to the distraught duo.

"You never listen, Travis." Wes also glanced at the crying boy, "I told you I wanted a salad, not cheese puffs. They're not even real food."

"Of course I do. That's how I know you don't want to mess up your ride with crumbs but gas station lettuce will give you E. coli. So I was going to get licorice." Travis winked.

"Don't listen to him," Wes was relieved to see a faint smile on the young face, "I hate licorice." That short exchange left him severely winded. The room was starting to spin.

"Hey man, you good?" Travis asked quietly as the blond tried to catch his breath.

"Somethings wrong. Losing to much blood" Wes whispered, "I think it nicked an artery."

"Hey, could you guys go find me some more shammies?" The woman looked ready to protest when she saw the serious look in Travis' eyes. Eyes darting down to take in the wounded cop's rapid decline in health she grabbed her son's hand and went down another aisle.

"Hey, stay here," Travis tapped his cheek and he opened his eyes not realizing he'd closed them.

"I'm awake," He mumbled, shaking his head trying to clear out the cobwebs forming. This proved to be a mistake as the contents in his stomach tried to make a reappearance next to the crushed cheese snack.

"Just breath. Nice and slow," Travis coached.

Wes looked down at the growing stain of red saturating the orange spheres scattered across the floor. "Too much blood."

"I know. But I've got an idea. It's gonna hurt like a bitch. But it should help control the bleeding till the bus gets here," Wes watched with heavy eyes as Travis pulled his belt free from his pant loops.

"Do you trust me?" Their eyes met as Wes gave a firm nod. His designer dress shirt sleeve went between his teeth as he clamped down hard against the pain. His pants were ruined anyway by the bullet hole and blood. A few teeth marks were nothing. Not to mention he'd never get the orange powder out of any of his clothes anyways. The whole suit was done.

Travis gave a quick warning before putting his body weight against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. He pulled his belt tight enough to hold strong pressure against the gushing bullet hole. Wes yelled into his shirt sleeve until it was over. The effects of blood loss and pain sent him into darkness.

When he once more opened his eyes he could see his worried partner. Travis's mouth was moving rapidly. When Wes was finally able to process the sound he could tell his partner had been talking nonstop through the whole process. Even when Wes hadn't been a participating conversational partner. Still, Travis talked.

"I'm just saying it's a good thing we're not in your car. You'd rather bleed out then stain the seats."

"Don't make me laugh," Wes huffed a pained chuckle.

"Wes!" Travis called before trying to act cool, "I'm just saying you're a little OCD man."

"Someone has to clean up after your messes."

"That's right Wes I need you around to make sure I don't make a mess of things. Use correct police procedures and all that shit."

"You use your gun too much," Wes sighed as his eyes closed in exhaustion. He could finally hear sirens. Back up was finally here.

"Yeah," Travis agreed half-heartedly, wishing he'd had a chance to use his weapon before his partner got hurt.

"I hate convenient stores," Wes just had to have the last word, "And cheese balls."


End file.
